Tho' battle calls me from thy arms,
Let not my pretty SUSAN mourn;
Tho' cannons roar, yet free from harms
WILLIAM fhall to his dear return:
Love turns afide the balls that round me fly,
Left precious tears fhould drop from SUSAN's eye.
The boatswain gives the dreadful word,
The fails their fwelling bofoms fpread;
No longer muft fhe ftay on board,
They kifs'd; the figh'd; he hung his head: Her lefs'ning boat unwilling rows to land; Adieu fhe cries, and waved her lily hand.
APHNIS ftood penfive in the fhade,
With arms across, and head reclin'd;
Pale looks accus'd the cruel maid,
And fighs reliev'd his love-fick mind:
His tuneful pipe all broken lay,
Looks, fighs, and actions feem'd to say,
My CHLOE is unkind.
Why ring the woods with warbling throats?
Ye larks, ye linnets, ceafe your strains;
I faintly hear in your fweet notes,
My CHLOE's voice that wakes my pains:
Yet why fhould you your fong forbear?
Your mates delight your fong to hear,
But CHLOE mine difdains.
As thus he melancholy stood,
Dejected as the lonely dove,
Sweet founds broke gently through the wood,
I feel the found; my heart-ftrings move:
'Twas not the nightingale that fung;
No, 'tis my CHLOE's fweeter tongue,
Hark, hark, what fays my love!
How foolish is the nymph, fhe cries,
Who trifles with her lover's pain!
Nature still speaks in woman's eyes,
Our artful lips were made to feign.
ODAPHNIS, DAPHNIS, 'twas my pride,
"Twas not my heart thy love deny'd,
Come back, dear youth, again.
As t'other day my hand he feiz'd,
My blood with thrilling motion flew ;
Sudden I put on looks difpleas'd,
And hafty from his hold withdrew.
'Twas fear alone, thou fimple fwain,
Then hadst thou preft my hand again,
My heart had yielded too!
'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blam'd,
That fwell'd thy lip and rofy cheek;
Think not thy skill in fong defam'd,
That lip fhould other pleasures seek:
Much, much thy mufic I approve ;
Yet break thy pipe, for more I love,
Much more to hear thee speak.
My heart forebodes that I'm betray'd,
DAPHNIS I fear is ever gone;
Laft night with DELIA's dog he play'd,
Love by fuch trifles firft comes on.
Now, now, dear fhepherd, come away,
My tongue would now my heart obey,
Ah CHLOE, thou art won!
The youth stepp'd forth with hafty pace,
And found where wishing CHLOE lay;
Shame fudden lighten'd in her face,
Confus'd, the knew not what to say.
At laft in broken words, fhe cry'd,
To-morrow you in vain had try'd,
But I am loft to-day!
ESPAIRING befide a clear ftream,
A fhepherd forfaken was laid,
And whilst a false nymph was his theme,
A willow fupported his head;
The wind that blew over the plain
To his fighs with a figh did reply,
And the brook in return to his pain
Ran mournfully murmuring by.
Alas! filly fwain that I was!
Thus fadly complaining he cried;
When first I beheld that fair face,
'Twere better by far I had died.
She talk'd, and I bleft the dear tongue,
When the fmil'd 'twas a pleasure too great;
I liften'd, and cry'd, when fhe fung,
Was nightingale ever fo fweet?
How foolish was I to believe
She would doat on fo lowly a clown, Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forfake the fine folks of the town; To think that a beauty fo gay,
So kind and fo conftant would prove, To go clad like our maidens in gray, And live in a cottage on love.
What tho' I have skill to complain,
Tho' the Mufes my temples have crown'd What tho' when they hear my foft ftrain, The virgins fit weeping around?
Ah COLIN thy hopes are in vain,
Thy pipe and thy laurel refign,
Thy fair one inclines to a fwain
Whofe mufic is fweeter than thine.
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